


Baby Booties and Rattles

by MistyBeethoven



Series: Cupid Poirot [4]
Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Genre: Announcements, F/M, Husband & Wife - Freeform, Know-It-All Poirot, Love, Marriage, Pregnancy, Rattles - Freeform, Soulmates, baby booties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: When Felicity becomes ill, her husband, Captain Arthur Hastings, is worried. Hercule Poirot, however, remains perfectly calm, a knowing glint in his eyes.





	Baby Booties and Rattles

Captain Arthur Hastings was pacing the floor of his good friend and employer's, Hercule Poirot's, office. He had been doing so for the last two hours, ever since he had arrived at Whitehaven Mansions. Poirot, in the meantime, sat behind his desk, watching his friend in silent amusement as he tented his fingers.

"I'm telling you, old boy, I'm worried!" Hastings exclaimed as he started his hundredth lap. "Felicity has never been sick before! She has the constitution of a horse!"

"And you're telling me that she fainted this morning, Mon Ami?" Hercule asked again.

"Yes! Straight out of bed and then down on the floor! I picked her up and put her straight in again but she wouldn't have it. Said she had to come to work."

"But you insisted she go to _le docteur_ before coming here?"

"Yes," the tall, thin man said, stopping his movement and placing his hands inside of his deep trouser pockets. "She's been sick these last few mornings too, Poirot. She doesn't look very well either."

"Does not look _well_?" the little Belgian detective cried. "She does not look _well_? Why, Hastings, I tell you that she is glowing! _Glowing_!"

Arthur looked at his short, round friend in disbelief. If Poirot had seen his secretary before they both arrived for work his opinion may have been different. While Felicity always tried her best to look presentable she was far from it after having been in the loo for an hour, throwing up. Still the detective seemed enthusiastically convinced that the wife of his best friend was beautiful and healthy! The Captain shook his head afraid and positive that this time Hercule Poirot would be wrong; just when he needed him to be right the most.

When they heard the front door opening, Arthur wanted to rush to greet his wife as she came in but the little man with the moustache raised a hand motioning him to stay. Hastings frowned at his friend's calm demeanor, wondering how he could be so serene while he felt on the verge of falling apart.

"Well?" Arthur Hastings asked as Felicity Hastings entered the room, holding her purse in front of her and looking nervous. "Are you all right?"

"The Doctor says I'm fine," she announced.

Arthur's relief turned to one of sudden perplexion. "I say, how can you be fine when you're fainting and ill every morning?"

"Well he thinks..."

The Captain waited for the pretty and small woman to continue. She seemed to be finding the words difficult to get out.

"Yes?" he finally hurried her on in anticipation.

"He thinks I may be pregnant," she said in a gust.

Arthur's eyes became very large. "_Pregnant_?"

She nodded, a look of anxious waiting on her face for it was clear that she was worried in regards to her husband's reaction. She needn't have been; Arthur Hastings ran across the room, and overjoyed, picked her up off of the floor. Both laughing, Arthur quickly set her back down again, not wanting to hurt the child growing inside of her.

"Now he's not _sure_," she said suddenly serious. "I may not be."

"_Au contraire_, Mrs. Hastings," Hercule Poirot piped up as he stood from his chair. "I assure you that you most _certainly_ are."

With great pride the plump Belgian left his place behind his desk and presented the woman with a carefully wrapped box. 

"_Voila_," he said and she took it from him.

Hastings watched as Felicity opened it to reveal a pair of yellow baby booties and an ancient looking stick with a ball at its end. "How did you know?" the tall man asked in amazement.

"_Simplement_!" Hercule Poirot beamed. "The sickness, the glowing...the amount of times you two have wanted to be _alone.._."

Both husband and wife's cheeks burned bright red. Trying to distract them from their mutual embarrassment, the Captain took the strange unknown item from the box and stared at it. "What's this old relic?" he asked.

The Belgian detective blustered, obviously perturbed. "Old relic Hastings! That is Hercule Poirot's personal baby rattle! I am convinced the very sound of it helped stimulate the little grey cells even in infancy!"

"It's lovely," Felicity said, casting a glance at her untactful mate and then back to Poirot.

"We must be sure to help this child in its mental growth. Already the odds are not in its favor."

The Belgian either did not notice or chose to ignore the less than pleased looks cast on him from his friends.

"And, of course, if it is a boy it shall be called Hercule!" Poirot said excitedly, an assured finger raised in the air. "Or if it is a girl, Herculina! Now if you excuse me, I am to have lunch with Chief Inspector Japp. Adieu!"

Arthur and Felicity Hastings watched as their friend minced out of his office, confident and as pleased with himself as always .

"_Hercule_?" the secretary said in shock.

"_Herculina_?" the Captain said in distaste.

They looked at one another.

"We have nine months to change his mind," Felicity reasoned.

"If not, the odds are against the poor creature anyway from what I hear," Arthur said in mock sombriety.

Looking at his wife, the man's face broke into a large smile. He gave the rattle a small shake, producing a sick and strange sound. Laughing, the petite woman threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him happily.


End file.
